Original subtitles

_

It's Lucy.

I didn't know she did another show.

In the '60s, after her divorce from Desi Arnaz.

Oh, no. They broke up?

I know, right? America's comedy sweethearts.

Everything they touched turned to gold,

or so it seemed.

In reality, Desi was a drunk and they fought backstage

- like a house on fire. - No, I'm telling you, that's not him.

Couldn't last.

- That's a shame. - That's who that is.

- You don't know what you're talking about. - Excuse me.

Is there an issue?

Yeah, I need to get a poster

for my journalism club at school.

I just want to know who this guy is

and he's trying to tell me it's Walter Cronkite.

Go restock the Dr. Quinn hats,

something you can't mess up.

I mean, it's not, right?

No, I'm sorry about that.

No, of course not. That's Edward R. Murrow.

CBS newsman way before our time.

But I bet you know his sign-off,

"Good night and good luck".

Murrow's all right, little left for me.

I'm more of a Winchell guy.

Who?

Picture Jazz Age, New York,

a reporter in a trench coat and a snap-brim fedora,

ready with a wisecrack and a hot tip on the mob.

Plus some Broadway buzz. Oh, and some dirt

on the Roosevelts too... that's Walter Winchell.

He did it all with panache. The best that ever lived.

I just need a poster.

Dale.

Sorry if I was sharp with you earlier.

I'm your manager. You should feel free

to come to me if there's ever a question

- you need an answer to. - I'm only working here

until I sell my screenplay.

_

Welcome.

You've got mail.

_

_

_

_

_

_

- Hi there. - Morning, Monica.

Linda. Can I see you a moment?

Just a quick question...

Is this about the Newsweek reporter?

Ken, he came unannounced.

What? No.

I wanted to ask... and this is last-minute...

but do you know who Gerald McRaney is?

- He's a, uh, actor. - Oh, yes.

- Major Dad. - Okay.

Well, he's gonna be in D.C.

and apparently wants a tour of Andrews.

Can you set that up?

Just a... Sorry, a-a one-off tour?

I know, it's not usually what you do, Linda,

but... can you help us out?

Let's take a walk.

So what did Mr. Bacon want?

I have to arrange a tour of Andrews Air Force Base

- for Gerald McRaney. - Who?

Major Dad, Monica.

Look, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about.

Something happened

while you were over in the West Wing doing God knows what.

I'm at my desk, I look up and there's Michael Isikoff.

He's a Newsweek reporter. He's very salacious,

always digging on the president's affairs.

Oh, what was he doing there?

My ex-friend Kathleen, she's purporting to be

the victim of an unwelcome advance from your boyfriend.

Except she's not calling it an advance.

- She's calling it an assault. - What do you mean, as assault?

I don't know, Monica.

- I have to tell Bill. - Absolutely not.

I don't want my name involved.

Anyway, I've already reached out to a high-level contact

at the White House.

Bruce Lindsey in the Counsel's Office.

Okay, that was very smart.

Now you can just leave it alone.

This is an explosive situation.

I need to think strategically, I need to talk to Kathleen.

No. Listen to me, leave it alone.

Okay, I will not talk to Bill. You don't call anyone.

If you do nothing, there's no story.

McRANEY: Do you have any plans for tonight?

Hey, sir, are you kidding?

- It's Friday night. - Oh, then you're free.

Well, yeah.

Why do you ask?

Hello?

Kathleen.

It's Linda Tripp.

It's been a long time.

How are you?

Well, a journalist showed up at my work yesterday.

I-I hope he didn't bother you.

I'm not even sure if I'm going to go on the record or not.

On the record about what, Kathleen?

About what occurred between the president and me.

What are you saying occurred?

You know.

I feel like I don't know.

You saw me right after.

Near the Oval. Remember?

I can't believe you're putting me in this position.

I'm sorry. I just thought you could tell them what happened.

Kathleen, if I am forced to talk to a reporter,

this is what I honestly remember happening.

I remember you and the president

flirting whenever you saw each other in the hall,

and you talking constantly about

how attractive he was.

And yes, I do remember seeing you that day.

You asked for my lipstick

and you looked like you were on cloud nine.

So, I have to wonder what on earth possessed you

to send Michael Isikoff to my desk when you know

I know the reality of the situation.

- Hello? - Why are you saying all this?

Because it's true.

I don't know what you want me to tell you.

I know you and I didn't...

part on good terms, but for you

to try and-and lie...

H-Hold on. Hold on. There's a call waiting.

Like what, sir?

- Well, you know... - Hello.

Did Bruce Lindsey get back to you?

H-Hold on one second.

Kathleen, I'm sorry. I have to go.

In the future, don't have the press

contact me without my approval.

Hmm?

Monica.

No, it's still me.

Who's Moni...

Hi.

Did you get ahold of him?

No. I've emailed twice more. Nothing.

Not from anyone at the White House.

Linda.

Not good.

"Sit down. You were picked out of a lineup.

You're not going anywhere".

I didn't do anything.

"I know you sent someone to kill my wife last night".

It sounds like you got a problem.

"No, you're the one with a problem. Two of them.

One is murder with special circumstances. The other is me".

You're not giving me anything to react to.

Well, I'm not good like you are.

Can you fucking try?

I'm sorry. I...

Just shh...

I didn't do anything.

I didn't do anything.

All right, one more.

"Sit down.

You were picked out of a lineup. You're not going anywhere".

I done... I didn't...

Fuck!

I can't fucking focus!

- Okay, we can go back. - I've got no space to work

in this shithole. Every time I go down to Redondo,

there's press out there saying, "Where's Paula? How's Paula?"

But I'm the one who has to go to work

at a job I hate to provide for my family.

I know, baby.

Oh, you know?

You know, do you? You know what it's like?

Going into work,

having the airport ops guys laughing behind my back,

thinking my wife got down on her knees and blew Bill Clinton.

Steve, you're scaring me.

This is all making you so mad.

I just can't stop picturing it.

You and him in that hotel room.

What do you mean? What-what are you saying?

Hey, you know what happened. Look at me.

None of this means nothing if you don't believe me.

Yeah?

Are you together?

Put me on speaker. Turn on the TV.

It's Susan.

...that the Constitution does not protect Mr. Clinton,

or any other president,

from lawsuits that are unrelated to his official duties.

- Oh, my gosh. - This means specifically that the lawsuit

against Mr. Clinton brought by Paula Jones...

We did it. We won!

Paula, you got all of them.

Even that little Jewish lady.

Even she said, Paula, you have the right

to take him to court and make him answer for what he did.

Oh, that's probably the hubby calling.

I'll try you back. Happy, happy!

John Paul Stevens writing,

"Like every other citizen, Paula Jones

has a right to an orderly disposition of her claims".

You believe this?

- Oh, my God! - Yes!

Fuck yes. Fuck yes!

Fuck you!

It's important for her to proceed,

because what's at issue in this case

is reputation.

The Supreme Court has reaffirmed

that no one is above the law, no matter their...

Why doesn't the president

of the United States simply come out and say, "I..."

The time has come.

His running away from this is over.

- Sir, Bob Bennett. - Thank you.

Evening, Mr. President.

- You need to talk about... - Nine to zero?

Nine to fucking zero?

Couldn't even get Ruth?

This is horseshit, Bob.

It's the worst decision in the history of the court.

Well, Dred Scott...

Don't talk to me about Dred Scott.

Y-You know what I'm doing this week?

I'm getting Russia to turn away

every missile it has pointing at a NATO target,

all of them.

It's a lot, but I keep getting sidetracked

by this fucking witch hunt.

I'm unhappy too, Mr. President, but now that this has happened,

we need to talk about next steps.

If I can be candid, I think you should settle this case.

What? You think that'll stop this?

This Lonoke girl is just a pawn.

Bob, I lost money on some Ozark vacation homes,

and now I've got a prosecutor going after everyone

who's ever met me. You know, they want to indict Hillary

over a discrepancy on some 12-year-old billing records.

Our best friend died, shot himself in the head.

Instead of displaying even a moment of grace,

they went out that day and said we murdered him.

They have no shame.

They're trying to use the legal system

to overturn an election, and they won't stop

until I give in and leave office.

Well, that's not happening.

It's fucking not.

Well, in that case, Mr. President, we go to trial.

Leave it up to a jury who to believe.

We're preparing for that.

She's not the innocent she claims to be.

We got people in the field looking into her past.

But as you must know, they will do the same to you.

She'll never let me settle.

- Paula Jones, I don't think... - No.

Hillary.

_

America held hostage, day 1,639.

Today, folks, we learned Mrs. Clinton took a...

get this... $50,000 check

from a Chinaman who wanted a photo op in the Oval.

Hi, Linda, this is Michael Isikoff of Newsweek,

following up, wanted to see if you'd spoken

with Kathleen Willey.

- My God. - Yeah. Anyway,

you know, just let me know.

I believe you know how to get ahold of me, so...

Thanks.

Astounding.

Astounding.

Linda.

On what planet was leaving a message

on my Pentagon-issued machine a good idea?

- Okay, it was... - I refuse to participate in this debacle.

And yes, I did speak to Kathleen and suffice to say,

I won't be confirming her story

for one minor inconvenient reason.

Which is?

I know the truth.

What do you mean? What's the truth?

I'm very busy. I have to go.

- Do not call me at the Pentagon. - Okay.

If you absolutely have to call me, call me at home.

If you get my machine or one of my kids, your name is Harvey.

Okay.

Harvey.

- Are you excited? - To meet Matt Drudge?

- No, no. To see your crush. - Ugh.

I'm excited. You're so awkward in her presence.

Please, do not cause an incident.

Also, she's a lesbian.

She is not. She used to date Dinesh D'Souza.

- There he is. - Laura!

Oh, my God.

Hi.

Oh... hello, Coulter.

- Ingraham. - Mm.

This way. Coat check is to your left.

Tom. Tom, if you haven't tried one of those,

you are missing out. Get in there.

What must it be like to be a grayscale Xerox of me?

I don't see how she could be your Xerox,

when, unlike you, she attended an elite law school.

Michigan is top ten.

See, that's among the saddest sentences I've ever heard.

Oh, there's Drudge.

That's what he looks like?

- My God. - George.

Meet Matt.

Drudge Report is one of the biggest sites

on the World Wide Web.

I've been addicted ever since you reported Ken Starr

wanted to indict Hillary for perjury.

How do you get this stuff?

Nice hat.

Is it serious?

Oh, I cannot believe I am meeting you.

Thank you. How kind.

My friend George here is of counsel

at Wachtell Lipton up in New York,

but he's also one of the elves.

The elves? What are the elves?

It's a name Ann gave us.

We're a group of attorneys with day jobs,

but we gather at night and do what we can to help

the Paula Jones suit move along.

Oh, I love that. Well, you know, that's what I do.

- I move stories along. - Great to finally

have an ally in the news business.

What took so long?

Well, my dear Ann,

the Internet needed to be invented.

You know how many people read the holy goddamn New York Times?

About a million.

At the rate I'm going, I'll blow past that

by the end of next year.

Print is dead.

Speaking of, I hear another woman's come forward.

Is that true?

Uh...

I make no claims under oath or affirmation.

But...

...if such a woman exists,

her claims are highly credible

and she's talking to Mike Isikoff at Newsweek.

Really?

Just keep my name out of it.

All right, well, I've gotta keep him circulating.

Uh, Matt, there's my gal pal, works at Rutherford.

Cynthia.

She and I golf together in Palm Springs.

You're ridiculous.

- Am I? - Mm-hmm.

Sir, sorry to interrupt.

It's fine.

Monica is calling again.

She keeps asking when she can come visit.

_

She has more gifts she'd like to give you.

She's a good girl.

She's gonna keep reaching out.

Tell her I'm busy.

Actually, Betty?

Sir.

Tell her to come in.

Tonight.

Yes, sir.

Hi there.

You look lovely.

Oh. Really?

Thanks. I feel flushed.

This was so last-minute.

I had to run home to grab this and change.

I come bearing gifts.

Wow.

What have we got here?

I know you don't go to the Vineyard for a bit,

but I wanted to make sure you had a beach read.

- Oh. - It's my favorite book from college.

When I said "beach read",

it was kind of a joke.

I, uh...

I just... I know that you've read everything, so...

Wow.

That's, uh...

That's great.

You want to... get a Diet Coke?

I wanted to...

talk a minute.

I've been thinking about you.

Yeah, I've been thinking about you, too.

You know this, uh...

this thing between us?

I started it back up again when I knew I shouldn't.

I couldn't stop myself.

The fact is...

...it's not right.

No, it is right.

No, it's not, Monica.

It's not right for you,

and it's not right for my family.

No, how could I feel all of this

- and it not be right? - Monica, listen, please,

I need you to understand.

I've been down this road.

When I hit 40, I-I was governor of Arkansas.

Hillary was top dog at her firm.

We had a beautiful six-year-old girl

who felt like a miracle.

But I started to put all that at risk.

And I hated myself.

My only option was to walk away.

Divorce, quit politics.

I thought, you know, if I have to work

in a gas station to be an honest man,

then so be it.

But I couldn't leave.

It was Chelsea.

And so I cut it out.

I committed to my marriage.

My family.

Monica...

I can't do this with you anymore.

I was so happy when Betty called me in today.

I thought you just wanted

- to see me. - I still want you in my life.

If you and I are just friends, then...

Monica, lis-listen to me.

You are a special, vibrant girl.

And you don't see it yet, but you're just becoming

the person who you're going to be.

And that woman is gonna do stunning, marvelous things.

I just want to be here with you.

That's exactly it.

If you and I are just friends,

then you can come see me and-and it won't matter

what anyone says.

Mr. President?

Prime Minister Blair.

Oh. Come here.

McRANEY: I want to know where you've been all night.

And don't tell me the Midnight Madness sale at Toys "R" Us.

Oh, I'm sorry if we worried you, sir,

but Amanda and I were having such a good time

that we-we didn't realize how late it was.

Oh.

And sunrise didn't give you a clue?

Hello?

I demand to know what you two have been...

Linda, please.

Oh, Jesus.

Monica.

I'll meet you at your place.

I'll be back in a few.

What is going on with her? She calls constantly...

She's in a bad situation.

She needs a friend.

Oh, no. Oh.

Mm.

He said

he still wanted to be friends and then, uh...

Tony Blair called and he gave me a hug

and I left and I sobbed on Pennsylvania Avenue.

What do you think it means?

I'm fucking dumped.

I've only been suffering at the Pentagon because I thought

I was going back to the White House.

Wait, did he say you're not going back?

Like everything else with Bill,

that's not exactly up to me.

He can't do this to you.

This is the same thing they did to me.

You know what though?

I actually kind of respect him more after today.

He was so open about his struggle to stay faithful.

Monica, listen to yourself.

What? He's in a lot of pain.

You're in a lot of pain.

He chose to start a relationship with an intern,

which got you kicked out of the White House.

And then he strung you along for an eternity.

And then he dumps you and you're supposed to be fine?

No.

Absolutely not.

This has been a calamity for you professionally.

You're not dating anymore,

he has to bring you back at least.

He has to.

He has the power to do that in five minutes.

How do I ask him to do that?

You can write him a letter.

Okay.

This is too polite.

You should start with something that, uh,

makes it clear how you feel.

Okay.

"I feel..."

I don't know.

Disposable.

Insignificant.

Used.

Good.

"I feel disposable, used

and insignificant.

I understand your hands are tied

but I need to discuss my employment situation with..."

You know what? This has to be tougher.

Otherwise, he's just gonna bring you in,

smile and tell you what you want to hear.

"I was a good girl

when I was sent to the Pentagon.

I waited patiently because I believed

I would return to the White House.

If that does not happen

I'm going to have to explain to my parents why".

I-I can't give him that. It'll make him upset.

How many times has he upset you?

I'd say it's about time.

Wow. Very All the President's Men.

This is fantastic.

Wh-Why did you want to see me?

Oh, I'm a big fan of yours.

You know, most reporters like you avoid the sex beat.

I'm not on the sex beat.

I-I write about abuse of power.

Sex is one way this president goes about that.

Gotcha. Roger that. It's too true.

Can I ask, is...

is this for real?

The voice. The... costume.

When I was a kid,

my heroes were the provocative press of yore.

Back when hacks had a knife and knew how to use it.

So I got to wondering, "Whatever happened to newsmen like that?"

So I became one.

Without a degree in, I don't know, journalism?

I can see why you'd say that.

Most people here went to the same fancy colleges, right?

Must have been nice.

You know where I went after high school?

7-Eleven.

I got shut out of that game. I couldn't afford it.

And then, one day, I buy a modem

and the whole news business cracks right open.

I don't know that unsourced Internet gossip

has cracked open the news business.

Well, you're probably right.

You're probably right.

Speaking of gossip,

I heard you're working on a new story

about another woman our dear leader harassed.

Where... Who...

Who told you that?

Gossip.

Remember, no tears.

I have three things to say to you.

First, it is illegal

to threaten the president

- of the United Sta... - I wasn't threatening.

I told you things I haven't bared to anyone.

To have that honesty used against me like this,

when you sat here and told me you understood...

- What do you mean? I... - What do you think

my fucking life is like?

Do you think what I need in my day is a nasty letter

that conveys nothing but disrespect and ingratitude?

What exactly am I supposed

- to be grateful for? - Lower your voice.

You promised you would bring me back,

and then you barely even called me.

So I just sat in my apartment alone,

just waiting for you and waiting for you.

Do you know what those nights were like?

Monica,

I was running for president.

That does nothing to explain why you lied to my face.

Ask me how many days I just sat there,

thinking I was so stupid to believe you.

But I was stuck in this loop...

thinking, "This will be the moment it'll ring

and it'll be you, because you promised".

And then just when I was ready to give it all up,

you call me back in.

But it's not to give me my job back...

it's just to use me up a few more times,

like I'm a worthless...

No, that is not true, and you know it.

No, I-I don't ever,

ever want you to think that.

That is not what you are to me.

I'm not supposed to cry.

It's okay.

You know? You're-you're just like me.

You know? We feel things deeply.

We can't keep 'em inside.

I wish it was different.

I wish I had more time for you.

I'm-I'm sorry I was so crazy in that letter.

I've been waiting to come back here for so long.

I know.

I'll... help with the job situation.

But no more of this, okay?

Are we friends?

Of course.

And there's Betty,

here to tell you it's time to talk

to the premier of Uzbekistan or something.

I almost forgot. A reporter at Newsweek

asked my friend from work to comment on a story.

Some crazy woman said you harassed her.

Is her name...

Kathleen Willey?

Yeah, I think it is.

She called here.

She made it sound like Newsweek was chasing her down,

trying to get her to say things.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Colleen, what's going on with this?

The colors are wacko.

The yellows didn't come through, and it-it looks off.

I know. FSD is coming to...

I have to hand this to Gerald McRaney in 20 hours.

I'm flying blind.

Tomorrow is too late.

How did it go?

Don't be mad.

What?

I kind of talked to him about Kathleen Willey.

You told him?

- Yes. I'm sorry. - Monica,

did you tell him my name?

Because I cannot get pulled into this.

- They already know who I am. - I know, I know.

- I didn't talk to him about you. Don't get so excited. - Well...

- I'm not excited. - Can you just listen to me?

There is something weird going on.

Because he already knew about Kathleen and Newsweek.

What do you mean he already knew?

- Is Isikoff talking to them? - No.

Kathleen Willey called the White House,

and she's telling an entirely different story.

Linda.

Linda.

Oh. Linda.

You can go ahead right now and tell me what your game is here.

Is this about Michael Isikoff?

'Cause I told him to stop bothering you.

You're talking to the White House.

Why?

How do you know that?

I can't say.

What's going on?

I know it doesn't make any sense,

but Isikoff called.

He knew things.

A-And we talked about the incident.

And then later I felt scared and I called Bruce Lindsey.

I was just trying to protect myself.

- I didn't want them to come after me. - You don't have

to remind me what the Clintons are capable of.

So you understand.

No, actually, I don't.

This is inane.

And in no universe will my distaste for this president

make me participate in your charade,

as though you're a victim

of some sort of atrocity.

My integrity matters.

How could I be so dumb?

What do you mean?

I worked with you

for almost two years,

and, somehow,

I forgot who you are.

You love this.

You love the drama.

You love having a Newsweek reporter come by your desk,

telling him you don't believe me

and somehow making it all about you.

This is exactly where you want to be...

in someone else's business, in my business.

Because in your own life,

there's absolutely nothing.

I feel sad for you.

I truly do.

If I had known all I had to do to see you more

was break up with you, I would have dumped you months ago.

Your friend at work, is her name Linda Tripp?

Yeah. How did you know that?

Do you trust Linda Tripp?

Yes.

Have you told her about us?

No.

Kathleen called again.

Somehow, word got back

that she's talking to us about the Newsweek article.

I'm just wondering how that might have happened.

Do me a favor.

Have Linda Tripp give us a call.

She can, uh, reach out to Bruce Lindsey

up in the Counsel's Office.

Betty'll call you tomorrow to follow up on that, okay?

Thanks.

Hey, Bob.

I think we should talk about settling with Paula Jones.

Hey.

Not now. I'm crazed.

Okay, but have you thought about, um,

just trying Bruce Lindsey's office just one more time?

- Just... - Is this coming from the big creep?

Did you talk to him again?

No. I just think it would be a great idea.

Well, I remind you, I did contact Bruce Lindsey.

Apparently, I'm not important enough to get a reply.

- But I think, this time, it will be different. - If they want to call me,

they know where I work. I'm sorry, Monica,

I have to finish this.

Gerald McRaney's plane lands in less than two hours.

Your story's up.

What do you mean it's up?

Sorry, buddy.

Go for Drudge.

What are you doing?

I'm just reporting the news.

This is my news,

news I'm still working on.

Look, it's nothing personal.

I saw a great scoop and so I went for it.

It's not even a story yet.

Well, the fact that you're working on it is a story.

No, it's not.

All you have is unsourced fluff.

I-It's a rumor.

It's just Internet gossip.

It's worthless.

Then why are you so upset?

Oh. Linda. Mm.

Sorry to do this.

Um, I just got a call.

McRaney's stuck on the Hill in something,

so he's not gonna have time for that tour today after all.

Oh.

Yeah. W-Well, but...

thank you for throwing it together.

You are a trooper.

Anyway... yeah, let's go.

JCOC.

Linda Tripp speaking.

It's Harvey.

Why are you calling me here?

Have you seen Drudge?

Oh, my.

Did you leak this?

What? He stole my story.

Okay, Harvey,

you must calm down.

Listen, I have to have someone on the record

so I can publish now.

Kathleen's not returning my calls.

I-I need you.

- Please. - I've made it very plain.

I don't want to get involved.

We're talking about an incendiary story,

and you are asking me

to put my name in print. It...

It boggles the mind.

But...

let me see what I can do.

Unfortunately, I am very busy.

You don't know what it's like over here at DoD. It's...

mania.

Okay.

You know what?

Sunday,

3:00 p.m.

Take down this address.

Hi. Can we help you today?

Hi. My name is... Harvey.

I'm here to see Linda.

Oh. That's right. Yeah, she's, um, just around the corner.

Right on time.

This is too public.

I need to get quotes from you.

Oh, it's fine.

He doesn't speak a word of English.

Okay.

So, if you could tell me about the afternoon...

The image of that day is crystal clear in my mind.

I was walking near the Oval when I saw Kathleen.

She was...

flustered but excited.

Happy, even.

I noticed immediately that her hair was slightly askew.

Her lipstick was off. And...

she later told me what had happened.

The president had taken her to a small hideaway

off the Oval and he'd kissed her.

And there was... some touching over the clothes.

- She told you this when? - That day.

This was not a case of sexual harassment,

and she was not in any way appalled.

You can quote me on that.

Right. We agreed all of this is on the record, so...

Wh-Why do you think she now feels differently?

I can't say.

My heart does go out to her.

She's widowed now.

She feels alone.

Things have not worked out the way she wanted in life.

So what is she doing? She's reaching out to you.

She's reaching out to everyone.

She's inserting herself.

She wants to matter.

- It's... very sad. - Mm.

Okay, dear.

To the dryer now.

This is all great. Thank you.

Wait.

- That's it? - Yep.

What do we do next?

Well, I'll call the White House for comment,

the president's lawyer will deny it and...

then we publish next week.

Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Linda. I appreciate your help.

There was a question you could have asked.

You didn't ask it.

What?

You're looking through a keyhole, Isikoff.

There's a larger context to this.

Much larger.

Off the record.

I started in the West Wing under Bush.

And when Clinton came in, I...

I wanted to respect him.

But what I saw

shocked me to my core.

He uses women like paper towels.

- I know. - No,

you don't.

You don't know the half of it.

What I've been a party to...

and I mean recently... goes beyond Kathleen,

beyond Paula Jones.

It's beyond imagining.

What-what are you talking about?

There's a woman right now.

A woman I'm very close to.

She's young.

Younger than I've ever known him to go.

I'm talking just a few years older than Chelsea.

Who is she?

I can't tell you that.

Does she work for him?

She was a White House intern when it started.

- This is sexual harassment. - No.

It's an affair.

He's subjecting her to emotional torture.

She's in love with him.

She'll never talk.

Ah.

That's very good gossip.

No, it's not gossip.

You should see what this girl is going through.

If she's not gonna talk,

- there's no story. - What?

Of course there is.

You have no idea how inappropriate...

Michael Isikoff?

You will go anywhere for a story, won't you?

Oh. No, uh, this is...

We're cousins.

Oh. Thought for a moment

this was the mysterious Kathleen Willey.

Far from.

I'm Harriet.

Anne Farris. I work at the Washington Post.

I actually was just leaving.

It was good to see you, Anne. I'll...

talk to you soon.

He's a wonderful guy.

He's a fabulous cousin to me.

Listen, I don't think it's appropriate for the president

of the United States to get down in the gutter,

where Ms. Jones wants to drag him.

I think he would see a settlement as something

to be done for the good of the nation.

I feel like I just watched the Challenger explode.

That's a bit out-of-bounds.

It's not a joke, Jerome. This is a disaster.

Her lawyers want a deal.

- They just do. - Great.

Great. So the law lets him slide.

The press lets him slide.

What a disgrace.

Being the president used to mean something.

Even Nixon was capable of shame.

But after this, just think what kind of flabby con men

will see a path to the White House.

The corruption.

The lies.

The hundred million cocktail waitresses he's groped

or worse.

If we let this slide...

We're not letting this slide.

Then we stop the settlement.

Whatever it takes.

Uh-huh.

So, um...

Just got 'em.

I'll take two.

Three.

Three.

Oh.

Where's Paula?

Ladies' room.

Hurry up and wait, right?

Not that I was surprised to get the call.

I knew he'd try to settle.

If I'm Bill Clinton,

I'm more than a little worried about the dirty laundry

this case might turn up.

Should be a good offer then.

Oh, should be.

Better than good.

Money won't be real to him anyway. Mm.

Well, you see, this is what no one ever tells you.

Politician like that,

he has big general liability policies.

If you settle, you get a check from an insurance company.

He won't pay a dime.

And I hate to say it, but...

Oh. Never mind.

No, what?

If she accepts his offer,

I-I do worry there could be whispers.

Mm. "She won the Supreme Court case.

Why would she let him off easy?"

Fair or not,

people will always...

wonder what really happened in that hotel room.

Ah!

Oh.

Don't you look cute?

- Mwah. - Mwah.

- Mwah. - Mwah.

Ooh, we were having such a good chat.

- You were? - Mm-hmm.

What y'all talk about?

Mm.

Get comfortable, folks.

Great. Thank you.

Nice to see you again.

Nice to see you.

Sometimes...

you get what you want.

"The parties agree that Paula Corbin Jones

did not engage in any improper or sexual conduct

on May 8, 1991,

and that the allegations and the inferences about her

published in the American Spectator are false

and their adverse effects on her character

and reputation regrettable".

You get your good name back.

From the president himself.

But that's not all.

Our complaint asked for $700,000.

You know what number they agreed to?

$700,000.

Every dime.

Oh, my gosh.

We're so happy for you.

That $700,000...

is that coming from Clinton himself

or from his insurers?

Well, insurance. But it's the number we asked for.

Anyway,

next steps.

- Why don't we go over... - Can we have the room?

Please?

So we can speak privately.

Of course.

Thank you so much.

Well,

since they didn't ask Paula,

I will.

What do you think?

I think it's even more than I ever thought

- we'd ever get. - He needs to apologize.

This is not an apology.

Steve, we could have a normal life.

But even better than a normal life,

'cause we'll have $700,000.

They get a big chunk of that, Paula-Poo.

Oh, I know, Susie, but you got to understand...

we are not from Pasadena.

And even $100,000 would be

more than anyone in my family has seen...

all our lives.

Oh, gosh. I'm just thinking about the kind of house

that we could get back home in Lonoke County.

- And I... - Wh-What are you talking about?

Well, I was just thinking that...

I don't want to go back to Lonoke County.

It doesn't matter how much money this is to your people.

It's not from them.

It's not even from him.

The only thing that would hurt him

even a tiny bit is if he had to apologize.

"I did those things to that woman,

and she did not want them".

Does that thing say that?

No, but this could change our lives.

This is an insult, Paula.

And if you don't take it that way,

I have to wonder, why the fuck not?

Can't even believe we're talking about this.

We talked it over.

Paula and I say no deal.

We asked for an apology.

Where is it?

He'll go to trial before he apologizes.

Fine.

It'll be her word against a president's.

Paula, you have to understand

what will come out in a trial.

I'm sorry, what are you trying to say?

That you will lose.

In devastating fashion.

But, first, Paula...

...they're gonna drag your name through mud.

They're gonna bring your past to light.

Think of the witnesses they'll call.

Think of the stories they'll tell.

They want to be sure no woman dares try this again.

This is your victory.

You have it.

Right now.

You've won.

I'm sorry, Gil.

- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.addic7ed.com -